Death lies on her like an untimely frost
by Khaleesi95
Summary: Modern AU. Police Officer Jaime Lannister receives a phone call about a new crime: the murder of his twin sister, Cersei.


He woke up at around four in the morning. He was experiencing a strange feeling of emptiness. He couldn't explain why, but he felt that a hole had burned its way through his chest. It was an overwhelming and depressing feeling. He wanted it to go away, but it only got stronger as the time went by.

He remained lying in bed, looking at the ceiling. He could not sleep. He could not do anything at all. There was something wrong, something terribly wrong. And he didn't even know what it was.

And then his mobile phone started buzzing. For some reason he was anxious of what he might hear. He let out a sigh and picked up.

"Lannister."

As his boss informed him of the committed crime, everything fell in place. Now he knew what had woken him up. Now he knew why he was feeling that way. Deep down he had known from the start; he simply hadn't wanted to believe it.

Cersei was dead.

* * *

By the time he arrived at the crime scene, the coroners had already taken the body. His boss and colleagues did not want to cause him any more pain by leaving her body sprawled out on the floor like an exhibit. The blood was still there, though. So much blood. Her life substance spilled.

Fortunately, they had already taken Cersei's husband over at the station. Robert Baratheon had called the police and confessed: he had got drunk, he had fought with his wife, he had lost control and had killed her with a kitchen knife. If only Jaime had killed the man. He had told Cersei more than once that he wanted to do it for treating her so badly, but she had said to him that it was folly. Now, for once, he wished that he had not heeded her.

Jaime always listened to his twin sister and did what she wanted him to do. He could do anything for her. He was her knight in shining armour, protecting her from all harm.

Except that he had never been able to protect her from Robert. Her husband had been hitting her and raping her. And now he had killed her. And there Jaime was, staring at her blood. He looked at his trembling hands. What good were they? He hadn't used them to shield her from that oaf.

Fellow police officers offered him their condolences. All of them thought that he had lost his sister. However, he had lost so much more. He had lost his twin, his friend, his lover, his other half. He had lost himself. He had lost everything.

He couldn't tell any of them about that of course. People saw incest as a sin, as a perversion. They didn't know. They couldn't understand. This wasn't the story of two siblings fucking. This was the story of two people being whole only when they were together, only when they made love.

But that story was now over.

* * *

When all the procedures were done, he went to the morgue. He didn't want to be there when they brought her in, her wounds still fresh. And he most certainly did not want to be there when they cut her open.

All throughout the day he had not broken down. He did not want anyone to see him vulnerable. Cersei had been like that: she only spoke of her fears and let her tears fall when she was with him.

He left her body covered with the sheet. He did not want to see the Y-shaped scar on her gorgeous body. He did not want to see the purple bruises where her blood had congealed after her death.

He looked at her beautiful face. He supposed that it was terribly vain of him to find his twin sister beautiful. But she had been the most beautiful woman in the whole world, only a blind man could disagree with that.

She was so pale now. Even her rosy lips were now colourless. Her eyes were closed forever; he would only see those bright emerald green orbs in the mirror now, because his reflection in the flesh was gone.

Tears were forming in his eyes. He felt them running hot under his cold cheeks. How could this have possibly happened? Why had that pig Robert lost control like that? It wasn't supposed to be this way. One could not die while the other lived. Jaime had survived anything, from bar fights to explosions, only for Cersei.

And now she was dead.

He bent and kissed her cold lips softly. He knew what he had to do.

* * *

_I suck at titles; this one is taken from Shakespeare's **Romeo & Juliet** because (in my opinion at least) the relationship between these two has a Shakespeare feel to it._

_I hope you'll like it. Feel free to check **Always Find Me Here**. Reviews are love!_


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